


Six Signs

by vampgirltish



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Depression, Gen, Suicide, like this shit gets really heavy; please be careful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-07 22:48:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4280841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vampgirltish/pseuds/vampgirltish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six signs ignored. A crippling, struggling mind, also ignored. Who would've thought someone previously giggling at glassed-in farm animals was in so much turmoil?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Six Signs

**Author's Note:**

> warning: depression and suicide are two prominent features in this fic;; if these trigger you, please express caution! be safe.
> 
> that being said, please enjoy, kudos, comment, whatever you want. <3

The first sign was when Ray walked into the men’s bathroom and heard crying in the one of the stalls. At first, he wondered if someone was just having a really fiery shit after having Chipotle; but, another, better part of him realized something probably was actually wrong. His voice felt foreign as he called out, “Who’s there?”

A voice, familiar but still so far away, high and strained, responded, “J-just go away.”

Ray knew he shouldn’t, he knew knew knew he shouldn’t. But he had work to do, and he could piss in a different restroom, and the person had asked him to go away. So, Ray just said, “Okay, sorry to interrupt. Hope you’re okay, whoever you are.”

 

Under the gap on the door of the bathroom stall, Ryan watched checkered Vans turn, and walk. He heard the slam of the door, and rubbed his eyes, letting out a breath as more tears streamed down his face. A shaky breath left his lungs as he furiously wiped his face, willing his face to stop being red, his eyes to stop crying and stop being puffy, his chest to stop feeling tight.

He got up, heart thrumming in his chest, and exited the stall. Looking at himself in the mirror, seeing his cheeks, flushed red and eyes puffy and bloodshot. With a sniffle, Ryan breathed out, washed his face until it looked like he hadn’t been crying, and turned to walk out.

Ryan thought about how the water couldn’t scrub off his depression as he walked back to the Achievement Hunter office.

* * *

The second sign was when Lindsay noticed more negativity. Michael laughed, a joke flying off his lips, “Why don’t you just kill yourself, Ryan?” It was a joke, just a joke, just a joke. Lindsay let a chuckle come out of her throat as she listened to the other guys laugh.

In the corner of her screen came a notification.

_BM Vagabond has chosen the easy way out._

Lindsay hadn’t realized it before, but the room had gone silent at this, and Ryan’s quiet, barely audible, “Fine.”

Lindsay stared at her character, waiting on the side of the road for Jack to pick her up. What happened to trigger-happy Ryan? Ryan who’d laugh too, say, ‘You fucker!’ and send Michael to the moon with a rocket launcher? What was happening?

The room went back to a lull of conversation, Gavin talking about something he’d seen as Geoff had flown by on the freeway. Lindsay glanced over her shoulder at Ryan.

His mouth was a thin, straight line, eyes blank. His fingers were moving on the controller, though he was hardly moving on the screen. The most Ryan-like thing he was doing was shooting off flares, but not to set people on fire. The flares slapped into the ocean, fizzling out under the drink and splash of the waves. Lindsay watched him exhale slowly, checking out of the Let’s Play very quickly.

It was just a joke, right? Just a joke. _Just a joke._

* * *

The third sign was when the 3D printer hadn’t been used for months. No one used it. No one except Ryan. But even then, it was silent. There was no hum from it anymore. Ryan no longer used it. Gavin noticed this, noticed that he hadn’t gone and 3D printed the little figurine models someone had made that Geoff had sent to the guys in an email.

_**From:** geoff@rtstaff.roosterteeth.com _

_**To:** michael@ahstaff; ryan@ahstaff; ray@ahstaff; gavin@smg; lindsay@ahstaff; jack@ahstaff; _

_**Subject:** figurines by a fan _

_**Attachments:** 7 .jpgs  (Download?) _

_look at these really cool figurine designs someone made for us. i think it’d be pretty cool if someone (ryan???) made these into real figures. we could put them on our desk. probably could talk about them in the next ahwu._

_geoff_

Michael was the third to reply to this, after Jack and Lindsay. Gavin didn’t reply, but that was only because he never replied. Ray replied with ‘Cool’ and that was it. Ryan didn’t reply at all. Gavin watched Ryan read it, look at the image of the figurine design someone had made of him, and for a nanosecond, a smile was on his face. It faltered again as Ryan clicked the delete button, and Gavin watched it suck into the trash bin.

Ryan was never one to delete emails. Ryan kept them until they were months old. He was one of three to have over a thousand emails in his inbox.

Gavin saw Ryan’s inbox had four emails in it, now. As Gavin got up, he side-glanced at Ryan’s monitor. The four emails were all from unknown senders.

* * *

The fourth sign was when fatigue took over. Suddenly, Ray wasn’t the only one falling asleep while recording. Jack scooted his chair a bit closer to his coworker, looking at him carefully. The rise and fall of his back told Jack that he was sleeping. The red cap on his head was skewed from sleep. “Ryan?”

There was no response.

“Ryan?” Jack said again, placing a pale hand on the blue fabric of Ryan’s shirt. He shook gently until Ryan stirred. With a wipe of his mouth, Ryan rubbed at his eyes, offered a barely-there smile to Jack, and reached for his mouse, going back to work.

Ryan was found asleep another four times that day.

Jack was concerned, “Ryan, why are you so tired today?”

Ryan shrugged, blue eyes blank, “Guess I just didn’t sleep well.”

Jack didn’t really believe this, but didn’t want to belittle him.

* * *

The fifth sign was when the GTA Let’s Plays stopped coming out as often. A tweet.

_@AchievementHunt: Sorry for the delay in GTA episodes! We’re trying to get them out ASAP. Had to change editors a few times. It'll work out! :)_

Ryan had not edited GTA for two months. The episodes had been split between other Achievement Hunters, and Geoff was very sorely confused on why Ryan wasn’t working. He knew that Ryan was a very good worker, diligent and on time. But, Ryan seemed to forget, seemed to not be able to concentrate.

Geoff looked at Ryan, saw him rub his eyes aggressively before standing to leave again. It was the fourth time that morning Ryan had left the office. Three of the four times he’d claimed to go to the kitchen, but the lie had shown through when he hadn’t returned with anything. The fourth time he claimed he was going to the bathroom.

Geoff wondered if it was true or not.

 

* * *

 

The sixth sign was too late. Michael heard his phone buzz late at night. He had only been up because he’d just gone to the bathroom at about the three in the morning. Michael looked at the screen, an incoming call.

**Incoming Call:** _Ryan_

Michael had to decide what was more important: Ryan, or sleeping in bed. He let the phone ring, rolling over and wrapping his arms around Lindsay’s waist. As he drifted off, he counted the times his phone went off.

Fourteen times.

Fourteen times that Michael could’ve saved Ryan’s life. Fourteen times that Ryan had reached out, sobbing and calling Michael because he couldn’t think of anyone else, because no one else was answering.

Fourteen voicemails, tear-filled, that told Michael exactly how much he fucked up.

 

_ Voicemail from: Ryan, **(3:06:23 AM)** _

_“M-Michael, p-please pick up, I know it’s really late--early...yo-you’re probably asleep. I kn-know I’m...fu-fucking...I’m fucking up. I can’t. P-please answer.”_

 

_ Voicemail from: Ryan, **(3:08:45 AM)** _

_“Michael, I c-can’t d-do this on my own. I c-can’t, I ne-ne-need to talk.”_

 

_ Voicemail from: Ryan, **(3:11:01 AM)** _

_“I-I-I re-really messed up. P-please answer or c-call me b-back I n-need help.”_

 

_ Voicemail from: Ryan, **(3:12:32 AM)** _

_“I c-can’t ev-even think st-traight, M-Michael. I-I j-just took like h-half a b-bottle of some f-fu-fucking medicine from the cabin-n-net.”_

 

_ Voicemail from: Ryan, **(3:14:56 AM)** _

_“I’m g-g-getting sleepy. P-please help me.”_

 

_ Voicemail from: Ryan, **(3:17:22 AM)** _

_“I never f-fucking liked you anyways. You never g-gave a sh-shit about me, did you? D-don’t bother.”_

 

_ Voicemail from: Ryan, **(3:20:47 AM)** _

_“I’m better off dead. Tell everyone else that.”_

 

_ Voicemail from: Ryan, **(3:23:04 AM)** _

_Coughing. Choking. “This is for everyone else’s g-good. They d-don’t need m-me.”_

 

_ Voicemail from: Ryan, **(3:26:34 AM)** _

_Background noise. Coughing. Choking. “P-please l-let it be over.” Silence._

 

_ Voicemail from: Ryan, **(3:29:45 AM)** _

_Coughing. Gagging. Sobbing. Yelling. “LET. ME. GO!” Sobbing._

 

_ Voicemail from: Ryan, **(3:31:22 AM)** _

_Groaning. Moaning. Sobbing. “St-stop it, p-please. It h-hurts.” Silence._

 

_ Voicemail from: Ryan, **(3:34:01 AM)** _

_Sobbing. “M-make it stop.” Silence._

 

_ Voicemail from: Ryan, **(3:35:23 AM)** _

_Choking. Sobbing. Moaning. “I j-just want it to end.” Sobbing._

 

_ Voicemail from: Ryan, **(3:40:13 AM)** _

_Sobbing. Sniffling. Coughing. A thud. A rattle._

_Silence._

**Author's Note:**

> I'M SORRY IF YOU CRIED. I CRIED WRITING IT. SOMETIMES I HAVE TO GET MY FEELINGS OUT AND SADLY RYAN WAS THE TARGET THIS TIME I'M SORRY.
> 
> (send requests to http://michaelvincenttjones.tumblr.com [for RPF ships] or http://rileywritesshit.tumblr.com [for reader insert])


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